


I Prefer Red

by kolxhero_0



Category: Hetalia - Fandom, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Blood and Gore, Complete, Guro, Humiliation, M/M, Painful Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:21:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28747605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kolxhero_0/pseuds/kolxhero_0
Summary: After England hears of Russia's Civil War, he invites himself over to help the Russian. This, turns out to be a huge mistake. ((RusEng/Guro))
Relationships: England/Russia (Hetalia), Lithuania/Russia (Hetalia)
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ((Originally posted in 2011-2012.  
> Another horrible story from my past where more beloved characters are beaten and tortured.
> 
> Enjoy.
> 
> -Kolxhero-0))

A man stood at the doorstep to the massive building, he knocked on the door huddling against the cold. He knew Russia was chilly, however he was unaware of just how cold Russia was. It was freezing and snowy, even more so than the winters of Great Britain. After England had heard of Russia's Civil War, he thought he would lend a hand to the Russian. The large door opened slowly, one of Russia's violet eyes peeping out through the crack. He opened the door wider, surprised.

"Da? Can I help you?" Russia asked curiously, he did not get many visitors. Usually when he had guests, he was the one who had to go get them. However today was a rare occurrence, there was no kicking and screaming involved. '-although, Russia was quit fond of the kicking and screaming.'

"I came to help you out with your Civil War." England said pushing the Russian out of his way and entering the building. It kind of pissed Russia off that the Englishman just waltzed right in, but he smiled.

"That is very kind of you!" Russia said happily, following England to the den.

"Yes, I know. I figure, this would show that bastard America, he is not the only one who can 'be a hero.' He thinks he is so cool." England said sharply, taking a seat in a chair in front of the fireplace. "Bring me the objectives and a cup of tea."

Russia did as he was told, the grin still plastered on his face. He sat the files on the coffee table and handed the tea to his, ally. There was no 'thank you', nothing but the sound of England going through the papers in front of him. The silence stretched on for awhile, Russia stood waiting patiently.

"Your strategies are horrible, there is hardly any public support, plus the war has taken quit a toll on your country. It looks like it is not going anywhere." England said after reviewing all the documents.

"You are right."

Russia's smile was beginning to freak England out, 'really, who the hell smiles like that?' England swore he had not seen Russia blink since he had arrived, it was extremely creepy. At first it had not bothered him, but now...

"Alright I guess I have done everything that can be done, I will be leaving now."

England got up and headed towards the exit, Russia had reached the doors first. He closed and turned the lock, preventing England to leave.

"What are you doing?" England asked, kind of scared by the situation.

"Thanks to your visit, I have decided to go in a new direction." Russia said in a low voice, he turned around. There was a look of pure terror in the Englishman's face, it was delightful.

The Russian moved slowly toward's him, graceful in his movements. Although Russia was a large country, he certainly was not clumsy. However, England, was far from grace. He stumbled as he backed away, finally tripping onto the crowded coffee table. The glass gave out in the center, red stained papers flying everywhere. Russia grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling the injured man to his feet.

"Let me go Creeper!" England exclaimed, clawing at the giant clutched fist. The Russian was surprised at the little man's strength, but the war had also taken his toll on the smaller nation as it had Russia.

"I will, after I have a little fun with you first." Russia said with a little chuckle. He smiled a childish smirk and drug the struggling Englishman through the double doors on the opposite side of the room.

"Mad Russian wanker!" England cried. Russia laughed a little, heading up the staircase. He continued to pull England by the collar of his shirt behind him. The Englishman grabbed hold of the banister, but it was futile, Russia was stronger. England's hands slipped free, Russia was un-phased and seemed to be going even faster. He rushed them down the hallway, stopping in front of a large oak door. In the wood was carved sunflowers, 'England had to admit, it was lovely, but knew it lead to hell.' Russia pushed it open, throwing the Englishman inside. He went in after, shutting and locking the heavy door. England breathing was hard from the struggle, he held his chest gasping. Standing in the center of the room he glared at the man at the door. Russia smiled and giggled, he was having fun now.

The room was dressed in luxury, although it was cold, 'the whole damn house was cold.' Fur rugs lined the floors, there were stuffed animal heads upon the wall and red satin curtains shrouded the bed. A trail of blood dripped from England's forehead from one of many small cuts.

Russia stepped forward, snatching England's arm from hitting him. He was close now, smelling the iron fumes. With little thought, Russia leaned in and licked the cut clean. The blood touched his tongue, the taste sending shivers down his spine.

"What the hell, nasty git!" England screamed in disgust, he tried pulling away. Russia held England's head with his free hand, so he could finish lapping the rest of his open one on his cheek, the one under his eye, the one on his chin, and finally the small nick on his bottom lip. England's eyes clinched shut, he felt gross. The Russian's tongue touched his lips, the Englishman pressed them firmly together preventing entrance. However, Russia would not allow this. He began to bend England's arm into an uncomfortable angle.

"Open up, or I will break it. Da?" Russia threatened, England knew well of what the Russian was capable of. He complied and let him enter his mouth, his cold tongue toying with his own. It traveled to the back of his throat, almost choking him. Russia saw England's panic, running against his cheek as he exited. "You taste like tea, what does Russia taste like?" The Russian asked in a childish voice.

"Shit!" England spat. Russia twisted England's arm, making him cry out.

"That was not very nice." He whispered softly in fake sadness. "You know, from the moment you showed up at my doorstep, all I could think about was beating the crap out of you?"

"That is because you a psychopath!"

"Arthur, really, you're such a tease!" The pale blonde said with a smile. He moved the Englishman back, setting him on the edge of the massive bed. Russia went down on one knee, now taking hold of both of England's small wrists into one hand. "Statements like that only want me to hurt you more, you should stop before the hole gets too deep."

Russia's free hand traveled to England's back, heading lower. His fingers slipped into his pants, then under the waistband of the Brit's underwear. The Russian grabbed hold of it firmly, yanking it up over the Englishman's backside.

"Bloody Hell!" England gasped, falling into Russia.

"There, there." The larger nation said, patting the other on the back. Russia licked the back of England's neck.

"Dammit, let me go! I do not understand, what your going to gain out doing this?" The bushy-browed man yelled, the Russian had his arms taught. England leaning against the man's shoulder, unable to get away.

"I just want to play with you a little before you go, I do not get many visitors! At least not many that want to help me out. Besides, you kind of piss me off and I want hear you scream." Russia answer truthfully. "Now, you wait here and I will go get some toys! I don't want you to be bored. If you move from this spot, I will kick your ass even harder then I plan to." The Russian got up and left the room, humming as he went. When he had gone, England quickly got up and adjusted his underwear. Then tried to look for an exit, he went to the window and pulled the curtain aside.

"What the Hell?" England whispered, instead of glass, the pane had been filled with bricks. The Brit heard the door begin to open, he quickly ran back to his seat. Russia was carrying a large box, England's face of of shear horror. He could not imagine what lied concealed.

"Are we ready?" Russia asked cheerfully, he was excited. It had been awhile since he had played. The Russian sat the box on the desk by the brick window, the curtain slightly ajar. This caught the larger nations eye immediately, his smile grew. He shuffled around in the box for a moment, picking out his favorite weapon. "Were you trying to see if it was still snowing outside?" Russia asked, England starred wide eyed to the floor as the Russian turned back around. A long, curved, thick, faucet pipe sat in his gloved hands. He swung it back and forth, testing its damage infliction. "Well, it is." Russia said answering himself, he twisted a section of the pipe to ensure it did not come loose while in use. His attention went back to his scared victim, hoping he would start begging for mercy. Of coarse, there was none to be given.

England shut his eyes, his body tense, waiting for the Russian maniac to attack. However instead of the hearing metal crushing bone, he heard laughter. The Englishman's eyes opened, blinked a few times, then looked over to the man with the pipe. He was laughing hysterically.

"Well?" England asked, unamused.

"I'm not going to hit you with it..." Russia chuckled, "...no, I plan to do something far more fun."

Unsure of what the man was referring to, England looked at him strange.

"Then what the bloody hell are you going to..." England started, but then stopped. He realized at once what the Russian intended to do. Russia laughed at England's dumbfounded face, it was hilarious. "Sick wanker." England mumbled, glaring.

"Ah, I almost forgot!" Russia exclaimed, he went back to the box and shuffled some things around. Turning back around, he held a long black tube a funnel was hooked the the top. "Take your pants off."

"No!" England shouted.

"I was not asking."

Russia walked over quickly and grabbed England's zipper, un-zipping his pants.

"Get off!" England yelled, covering himself with his hands. The Russian ignored him, and pulled his pants off by the legs. They sunk into a pile on the floor. England's face was red from humiliation and anger. He avoided looking at the Russian, who was eyeing him like a piece of meat.

"Underwear, off." Russia commanded, smiling.

"No."

Russia said nothing, and snatched the waistband. Pulling them off roughly, England kicked and protested. However, Russia was far too strong for him. The smaller nation hid himself, sitting half-naked on the other man's bed.

"Put this in." The Russian said, handing the tubing device out for England. After the Englishman refused by not complying, Russia took matters into his own hands once again. With one large hand he grabbed onto England's inner thigh tilting his body back. Forcefully the Russian pushed the end of the black tubing inside the smaller nations anus. England tried his hardest to resist, the foreign object being pushed deep inside him. He cried out in agony and frustration.

"Your making this much too hard on yourself." Russia sighed, he pulled a bottle from his coat, a clear liquid splashed around. England watched Russia through his spread legs as the Russian twisted off the cap with his teeth. Russia Held the funnel end of the tube up, he sat England's leg down on the bed. "Don't move." Russia said quietly. He began to pour the liquid down the funnel, the contents swirling down into England quickly. The Englishman felt the liquid burn inside of him. He grunted, sitting up in the bed, then pushed away. Thus, spilling some of the remaining liquor out of the funnel and ripped the tube out of Russia's hand.

England wanted it out, he rolled over to his stomach and began to pull. Russia stopped him, crawling over his body and crushing him under his weight. He removed his scarf, and tethered England's hands together. Bending close to the Englishman's ear, his cold breathe blew through his hair.

"You should not waste vodka like that." Russia whispered coldly.

England did not say anything back, the burning continuing deep inside him. Russia sat up and turned around, still sitting on England's back. He held the funnel up again and began to pour. England's screams filled the room, this pleased Russia.

When Russia finished filling England to the brim, he got off him and took out the tube slowly. England was exhausted and aching, fearing if he moved he would spill out onto the bed.

"Can you move any?" Russia asked, the smaller nation refused to speak. "Then I guess a bedpan is in order." The Russian said, answering for the Englishman.

Russia placed a cold metal object on the backside of England's calves. Taking the laying man by the hair, he pulled him back and upwards to his knees. England clenched himself together, trying hard to hold it in. The metal pan was wedged between his calves and the Englishman's bottom. Not long after, the change of position made him loose his contents. The sound of the liquid leaving his body and hitting the metal made him more humiliated, especially since the Russian was watching him. "Good boy." Russia smiled.

The flow stopped, moving into slow drips. England began to daze, the pain and shock had sent him into a numb state. His opening throbbed, the muscles spasmed. Russia pushed England forward, back onto his stomach.

"I want you up on your knees." The Russian said softly. The Englishman said nothing, starring at one of the red curtains that hung from the bed frame. Russia took hold of England's hips hoisting him to set on his knees. The Brit's bare bottom stuck up in the air, his face buried in the comforter. England felt the Russian leave the bed, returning quickly. Something cold was pressed against England's opening, then slammed inside. The Englishman screamed as the thick metal pipe was rammed into him, roughly being pushed in and out. England could feel it tearing his insides, the thrusts rubbing him raw.

"Please, Stop!" England yelled, his teeth biting into his lip. This outburst only made the Russian move the object faster and deeper. Russia watched as blood began to seep from the edges, dripping down England's thighs. "N-no more." Englishman begged, his back arching up. The Russian laughed and pushed him back down into the covers. Continuing his assault, England felt as though he was being split in two. When England stopped making noise, Russia finally removed the pipe and placed it aside. Blood pooled under England's limp body, soaking a large spot on the bed.


	2. Chapter 2

"You're great entertainment, but I am sick of doing everything." Russia said cheerfully, he crawled around the bed so he could see England's face. It was beautiful, tears still running down his cheeks, his eyes a glossed over green. They starred into nothingness, his lips slightly parted. Dripping from his mouth was a trail of saliva, it puddled into the blanket neatly. Russia smiled, thrilled. "Now it is your turn, sit up."

England did as told, painfully sitting up on his knees. He hung his head in shame and tiredness from the abuse. Russia laughed lightly.

"I want you to lean your back against the headboard, legs spread, da?" The Englishman shuffled across the bed, into the position told to him. If was painful to sit, a prickling sensation was sent through his body making him wince. The Russian took a seat beside him, and untied his arms from behind his back. England let them fall to his sides, defeated. Taking one of the smaller nation's hands, Russia formed it around England's shaft. "Nice and slow." The man said, leading his hand up and down. Russia took his hand away while England continued the motion without guidance. "Make it stand." The Russian said, happily enjoying the scene. He laid upon his stomach and keeping his head propped with his arms.

England felt himself starting to climax, the blood pumping through his veins faster. He held in moans of pleasure as he neared the top, then the Russian's hand returned, stopping him just before the finish.

"I did not say to make it explode, da?" Russia explained, stretched over England's thigh, he looked at him with disgust his manhood throbbing. The sensation started to leave his member, it beginning to wilt. The Russian grabbed on to it firmly, sitting up, his cold gloved hands making England jolt. Russia quickly got it standing straight. Going to his coat pocket, he pulled out a spool of thread. He pulled a long piece, tearing it with his teeth. "This will stop you from leaking early." Russia smiled. "You know, compared to Russia, your a small little speck of dust on this Earth. Interfering little Island, you are almost as bad as your cocky little brother."

"I was trying to help you, ungrateful wanker!" England yelled, the first thing he had said in awhile. Russia was irritated, he thought the Englishman had been broken, 'apparently not enough.' Russia forcefully snatched England in his hands, tying the thread tightly around the head of his member and then around the base. England hissed, the small string starting to cut into him. "Bastard!" Without thinking England's fist flew, punching Russia in the chin. The pissed off Russian held the spot with his hand, wide eyed. Then, his smile returned slowly.

"Thank you..." Russia said, his voice low and deep. England breathed heavy, knowing he could not escape. Russia suddenly snapped, wrapping his hands around the smaller nation's neck. He squeezed as hard as he could, watching England struggle. "...for your help." The Russian said, finishing his sentence. The Englishman tried at prying the man away, his face starting to turn blue. The bipolar Russian quickly released, England was left coughing and held his chest. His lungs painfully filled back with air.

"Look, ha, you like it!" Russia laughed, pointing at England's swelling manhood. A droplet was tearing from the tip, England turned his body away. Calming himself, with the little composer he had left. The Englishman could feel the bed shift, he was afraid to turn back around to see what the Russian was doing. However, it did not take long before Russia told him. He was back again, in England's ear. "Hold still." Russia whispered. Something was thrown over England's head, then fitted to his neck securely. England did not have time to react, as he was hoisted in to the air. His toes barely touched the mattress, but he was thankful Russia had not removed his shoes, he would not be able to touch if he had. He held onto the rope around his nape, trying to avoid being strangled. "How's this? Feel good, da?" Russia asked. He stood off the bed, the rope was thrown overtop the high bed frame, Russia holding it taught. The Russian tied his end to the bed post, so his hands were free.

England felt the blood slowly dripping down the back of his legs. Returning to the bed, Russia, began inspecting his captives feet. He watched as the frantically danced about like a ballerina. Russia moved his hands under England's lifted heels and pressed down on the mattress until his feet did not touch. England began to wheeze, unable to breathe. Russia laughed, letting him dangle awhile. The lack of oxygen was making him see stars, he clenched his teeth in agony. Just as the Englishman began to lose consciousness, the ground returned. England sucked in the air greedily, gasping.

"P-please stop." England struggled to say.

Russia ignored him and pressed on the mattress again, he continued the torture. Slowly the Englishman's desire to fight demolished, feeling he was going to die at any moment. The Russian did not stopping until blood began to drip from England's nose. Russia happy with the result, cut the rope with a knife from his pocket.

England fell into the bloody blanket barely alive, his heartbeat slow. He lay face up, blood traveling down his face. Russia was lying in-between England's spread legs on his stomach. He poked at England's member, it still was fully erect, swollen, as it strained against the restraints Russia had tied it with.

"Arthur, I did not realize you were a masochist. I would have never guessed!" Russia said, still poking at England. "That face your making is so wonderful! Too bad I don't have any mirrors, Belarus keeps breaking them." He sighed, England moaned softly. His eyes were swollen half-open, the blood beginning to crust on his nose. He twitched every-time Russia's gloved finger touched him, a stream of saliva trailing down his chin, mouth quivering.

Russia edged him for what felt like an eternity, England's groans got louder. England wished the Russian would just let him release, but every-time he was close Russia stopped. Leaving his manhood to throb on its own.

"P-please, I need to..." England said softly, finally able to speak.

"Need to what?" Russia teased, pushing his thumb over the tip of England's shaft.

"Cum." England mumbled, barely audible.

"Not yet." The Russian said, continuing to stroke England cruelly.

"Please..."

Russia thought for a minute, then decided that he had been edging him for a long time. He sighed unhappily, then released England.

"Fine, but I get to first." Russia said, he sat up and un-did his pants. England waited, dreading what was about to happen. His backside still hurt, from being torn apart by the metal pipe. The Russian tilted England's thighs up, pressing his massive dick into position. England's opening was still bloody, visible pink tears in the flesh surrounding it. "Ask for it."

England hesitated, but then figured if he did not do as ask, Russia would keep him longer. Fearing what else Russia would, or could do to him, England complied.

"Put it in."

"Nicely." Russia said coaxing.

"Please, put it in." England grumbled.

"Put what in?"

The Russian was just being a douche now, it was annoying. The Englishman blushed from embarrassment and being toyed with.

"Please, put your cock inside me." England blurted, humiliated by saying the vulgar words.

Russia smiled wide, then suddenly he was inside England. Thrusting into him vigorously, England arched his back and screamed. Russia's giant member was ripping him even more, twice as large as the pipe had been. It tore through him, rubbing up against the tears and forming new ones as the thrusts continued. Blood once again leaked from him as the fully dressed Russian pressed in deep, his dick beginning to harden. Though Russia had warmed him up, England was still very tight. The pressure around him felt good, he went faster. England's screams soon turned into loud moans of pleasure, he clawed at the covers on the bed.

"Almost." Russia said, huffing softly. Russia plunged in deep, his body shivered as his load shot into England. It burned, England screamed in pain. The Russian pulled out just as abruptly as entering, and pulled the threads from England.

Immediately after being set free, England's member erupted. White sticky fluid shot from the tip, spilling over his green suit jacket and into his face. England's mouth was wide, no sound admitting. Droplets stuck in his hair as his eyes rolled back into his head. He arched his back as his member twitched, the rest of the load sliding down and mixing with the blood between his thighs. The burning continuing deep inside of him, he rolled to his side. His breathing was heavy, his heart racing. Filled with pain, pleasure, and a deep feeling of humiliation, England finally passed out cold.


	3. Chapter 3

"It is time to wake up Arthur, I am not done with you yet."

England heard the familiar voice call. His hearing was fuzzy. Almost like having his head underwater. England's eyes slowly opened to Russia's rosy face. Russia was poking at his cheek, smiling as always. Coming to, England looked about him. He was in a chair, his pants still gone. In the back of his mind he wondered if Russia was ever going to return them. The room was dark and gloomy, but that was how it was everywhere in Russia's house. In front of him was a small table and chat. The Englishman head ached, he groaned.

"Since you feel asleep during the last game, we will have to return to it later. However, now let us start a new one! This one is called Russian Roulette, have you ever heard of it?"

England looked at the man, he was clearly insane. He despised him. Almost wanting to play the Russian's suicidal game in hopes he would get the bullet. Not that England had a choice in playing or not.

"It is fun! I put a single bullet in a revolver and then we take turns holding it up to our heads and pulling the trigger. Who ever gets shot loses, da?" Russia explained, he put a revolver down onto the table, along with a small bullet. "Don't worry, you will not die if you get shot. We are countries, I have gotten shot tons of times!"

'That explains some things...' , England thought looking up at the smiling Russian. Russia took a seat in the chair across from him, starring at England intensely.

"You shoot first, you are a guest after-all." The larger nation said. England crossed his arms in refusal. "We can always return to the other game we were playing..."

England quickly put the bullet into the gun and spinned it round. He held it up to his head nervously. Even if the shot would not kill him, being shot did not feel good. England's shaking hand tightened on the trigger. Something hit him hard in the leg. His finger slipped and he pulled. Clinching his eyes shut, the gun clicked. Nothing. England opened his eyes and glared at Russia across the table.

"Oops, my foot slipped." The Russian lied. "My turn, da?"

England slide the gun across the table forcefully, Russia stopped it from going off the table. Without hesitation, Russia, held it to his temple and fired, nothing. The Russian laughed gleefully.

"You were nervous last time, so I will give you time to relax." Russia said the gun still to his head, he pulled the trigger again, nothing. "Once more, da?" He pulled, nothing. "Since I took two turns, you get to take two turns! However, my hands are less shaky, so I will pull it for you." The Russian pointed the gun at the Brit, who was terrified. One of the two remaining cartridges had the bullet. Russia held the revolver steady, the horrible smile still on his face.

"Wai..." England began to protest, but it was too pulled, the gun fired.

England burst out screaming as it hit him in the shoulder. The blood beginning to soak through his suit. He applied pressure with his hand.

"Bastard!" England snarled.

"Da? The last cartridge is yours too."

Russia pulled, England expected nothing as another bullet zipped into his other arm. England began to scream again, cursing on the top of his lungs.

"Damn it! Cheating wanker!"

"You are the one who put the other bullet in, da?" Russia said, his grin widening as he watched his British captive bleed. Lovely, dark stains began to travel down both his sleeves. Red swirling with the green suit. It reminded Russia of Christmas.

The Russian sat the gun back on the table and walked over to England. England crossed his arms, holding both hands over the open wounds. "I am a horrible shot." The Russian sighed, he sat on England's lap facing him. Penning the smaller nation under his weight. "Let me dig them out and we will try again, da?"

Before England could protest, Russia had moved one of his hands away and was pushing a finger down into the hole. Blood gushed around his appendage as he wiggled it around, making the opening larger. England hissed, his body tense, Russia crushing his legs. He tried to get away, but Russia held him still, enjoying causing him pain. The Russian took his time working towards the bullet, going in slowly, swirling and tugging. When he reached the metal butt, he wedged it farther in. England screamed, like Russia knew he would.

"Oops, I am so clumsy today." Russia snickered, finally scooping the bullet out. The Russian placed the metal shell on the table and inspected the entrance wound he had just extracted it from. He was having trouble seeing it, England's clothing covered too much of it. Russia grabbed England's arm sleeve and tore it from the seams, undershirt and all. England's arm exposed, the Russian could investigate the wound further. He leaned in close, England still struggling.

Russia began to lick the hole, sapping up the blood. He moved his tongue inside, licking the interior. England gasped and mumbled something, but Russia was not listening. He was too busy tasting England. His tongue pressed in deeper, lips against the skin. Blood drippled down Russia's chin. He pulled away looking up at England with earning eyes. Russia licked his lips then proceeded to attack the Brit's mouth. England could taste his own blood as Russia explored his mouth. The Russian kissed him deeply. England bit down, trying to ward off the unwelcomed visitor. More red liquid spilled into England's mouth. Russia's blood mixed with his own as it slide down the back of his throat.

The chair was beginning to lean backwards, until it finally fell. The two nations landed with a thud. England gasped for air as the Russia's thigh was jabbed into his stomach. He began to choke on the blood in his mouth, looking up at Russia hatefully.

"Damn wanker." England hissed.

"I will take out the other too." The Russian said, shoving his finger into the other bullet entrance. Russia took his time, making sure England was in as much pain as possible. The Englishman refused to cry out, holding his breath. Russia would not have this, he shoved another finger into the hole along side the other. England started to scream again, Russia smiled happily. A ringing noise made him look up. Russia's phone was ringing from the end table. He got up, adjusting himself, and walked over.

"Hello?" Russia asked cheerfully into the receiver. England listened bleeding from the floor, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Yelling came from the other end of the phone, the Russian held it away from his ear. When the person was silent, Russia returned. "Yes, he is here. He wants to talk to you too. Hold on and I will go get him." Russia said. He sat the phone down gently and walked back to England. Grinning he pulled the Englishman to his feet. "America wants to talk to you."

Russia drug England over to the bed and sat him down by the phone. The Russian held the receiver up to his ear for him, England glaring at him.

"Hello?" England said weakly.

"Yo Arthur, what are you doing? Why aren't you back yet? I've been calling all over the place for you. Has that drunken bastard hurt you? I swear to god if he did, I'll Blow him UP!" America's voice yelled from the phone. England paused for a moment, looking at Russia. He did not know if he was aloud to say what was happening or not. Russia quickly answered for him, mouthing the words 'I will kill you.'

"Uh, I am fine. In fact, you should come and visit Russia too. "

"Naw man, it's way too cold for me. I'm happy you're okay though."  
"I will make you hamburgers if you come." England bribed.

"No way dude! 'ur hamburgers taste like shit. See yah!" America said, hanging up the phone with a click. England's heart sank. 'Stupid Alfred.'

"Will you make me hamburgers, da?" Russia asked, gleefully smiling.


	4. Chapter 4

"Mr. Russia?" Called a timid voice and a knock at the bedroom door. Ivan walked over and opened the door. England recognized the man as one of Russia's lackeys. A man with mid length brown hair and green eyes.

"What is it Toris? I am a very busy man." Ivan asked smiling. Lithuania saw Arthur bleeding behind him. "WHAT IS IT." Russia asked again.

"Uh, Be-Belarus is downstairs." Toris said quickly. He quivered in fear.

"Belarus?" Ivan said fearful.

"Yes, she is looking for you and she knows you are here." Lithuania informed him. "M-maybe you should leave for awhile?" He suggested.

"Yes, okay." Russia agreed. He hurried out of the room passing Lithuania, completely forgetting about the naked British-man sitting on his bed. Toris waited to make sure the Russian had gone, then came inside the bedroom.

"Are you okay?" Lithuania asked. He took a throw from a chair and threw it over Arthur's shoulders.

"Do I bloody look okay?" England yelled. He shivered, the room was freezing. "Damn Russian!"

"You should not yell things like that while your here." Toris warned checking behind himself nervously.

"I'm out of here." Arthur said getting up from the bed, it was horribly painful.

"You c-can't leave!" Lithuania exclaimed running in front of him. "He will hunt you down and throw you in the dungeon."

"I'm not as weak as I look. I think I could handle him in my own territory." England said wobbling across the bedroom. "You have clothes I could borrow?"

"If I-I lent you some, I'd be punished." Toris said looking down at his feet.

"Then leave with me." Arthur purposed. Lithuania looked up at him and bit his upper lip.

"I can't do that." Toris said quietly. "It would make him upset. Bad things happen when Mr. Russia is upset."

"Bad things happen when that psychopath is happy to! In fact, I think they are worse when the loon is Happy!" Arthur yelled. He leaned against the wall for support. Toris pulled his sword from it's sheath on his holster.

"Sorry Mr. England, but you have to return to the bed." Lithuania commanded pointing the sword towards him.

"You got to be kidding me!" England exclaimed.

"If you don't, I will have to pierce you through." Toris warned in a serious tone. Arthur sighed and limped back to the bed. He held his head in his hands.

Lithuania nodded and left the room, standing guard outside. England picked up the phone next to him and dialed for America. It rang.

"Yeah?" America said picking up the other line.

"Alfred, don't answer the phone like that! Where are your manners?" England scolded.

"Wedged somewhere up your ass." Alfred said snickering.

"That doesn't even...nevermind." Arthur said annoyed. "Anyway, I did not call to correct your idiocy."

"Then wha' do you want?" America asked with his mouth full.

"Are you talking with me while eating?" England yelled.

"No." Alfred said, clearly still consuming something. Arthur rolled his eyes.

"I am at Russia's house, he has me held captive." England explained.

"Captive?..." America said confused.

"He has me lock in his bedroom and I can't leave, because his lackey will kill me! IDIOT!" Arthur yelled. "H-he has been doing...things to me." England said with a shiver.

"What? Damn bastard lied!" Alfred exclaimed. "I'll kick his ass!

"Bad things." Arthur said quietly. "Please...come help me." He pleaded. There was a trail of silence.

"I will be there soon. Hold on okay?" America finally answered his voice concerned.

"Yes, alright. Hurry please, I am banged up pretty bad." Arthur whispered. "Bring me a change of clothes too, okay?"

"Yeah." Alfred said sniffling. "You're making me afraid to hang up."

"Why is that?" England asked weakly.

"Just don't die before I get there, don't die." Alfred cried into the phone.

"I'm not going to die, because the hero always arrives just in time." Arthur said smiling weakly. He hung up the phone and laid on the bed. Blood soaked through the comforter on the mattress. 'He'll make it, I know he will.'


	5. Chapter 5

A commotion from outside the room made Arthur stir from his sleep. England did not know how long he had been out. It may have been minutes, hours, or days.

"Come on dude, I don't want to hurt you!" The voice of his brother was muffled by the door. Alfred had come for him.

England tried to call his name, but did not have the energy to form words. He was beyond tired and fading deeper into darkness. Even if he was safe, in Alfred's arms. Who's to say he could get him to help in time before he faded for good? His eyes teared up, he did not want to die in front of him. It would make Alfred so sad. What if calling for him was a mistake? Perhaps the 'frog' would have been the better choice.

Alfred came inside the room. His breathing was heavy and his arm was bleeding. The Lithuanian must have put up a fight. England tried to cover himself, he was fully exposed. He was embarrassed by his condition.

"A-Arthur?" Alfred said. His voice cracked, he was beginning to get upset. Arthur could hear his breathe becoming uneasy.

"Idiot, do not cry." The Englishman whispered.

There was a shriek from the hall and the door was slammed open. Ivan stormed inside, dragging Toris by his hair with him. The unfortunate man had a large newly formed welt stretched across his face and he seemed to be unconscious.

"You may be the most un-stealthy person I know, Alfred." Ivan smiled. "The greasy finger prints on the window, the muddy footsteps tracking up the stairs, your repulsive stench, and you also decided to rad my refrigerator. Pathetic."

"Really Alfred? The fridge?" Arthur wheezed, he would have yelled at him if he could. "Moron."

"You interrupted dinner!" America pouted his lips, glaring at Russia.

"I will gut you and take back what is mine." The larger nation tossed Lithuania into the dresser. "Then, to be a proper host, I will serve you both dinner."

Alfred raised an eyebrow, letting his guard down.

". . .What are you making?"

Ivan moved quickly forward, slicing up Alfred's abdomen. The American held himself shut, backing away wincing. Russia licked his stained blade clean.

"Delicious."

"BASTARD!" America exclaimed, yacking up blood.

England had gotten enough strength to reach a pipe peeking out from under the bed, he threw it as hard as he could at Russia's face. It hit hard, sending Russia crashing to the floor.

"ALFRED RUN! NOW! YOU CAN COME B-BACK LATER!" Arthur yelled. Ivan was getting back onto his feet.

"But, Arthur I ca-"

"Do not be a fool, Alfred. You cannot take him like that!" England gritted his teeth. "Go, NOW! Run as fast as you can and do not come back without help!"

Alfred, reluctantly turned back to the door and ran. He kept his arms crossed over his mid section to prevent his insides from falling out of him, cursing under his breath.

Russia was not happy. His dinner had escaped, but he still had the Englishman. He decided to let America leave, walking to the window to watch him stumble through the snow leaving a trail of blood behind him.

A smile was spread across the Russian's face. He looked over at England like the man was a bottle of vodka. There was an open wound on his forehead.

"Give me a good reason not to string your entrails around the house like holiday decorations." He said deeply.

"Do whatever you want, at this rate I will probably die from blood lose." Arthur smirked. It drove Russia nearly to the limit.

"We cannot have that." Ivan walked over to Toris and kicked him in the stomach. The smaller nation grunted, reawakening. "Good morning Toris. Would you please take care of Arthur's injuries, they are very bad. He dies, I will yank out every strain of that pretty hair of yours, one by one."

The Lithuanian got to his feet.

"Yes sir." He exhaled. His body shook gathering Arthur in his arms and carrying him off to a spare bedroom two rooms down the hall. A cloud of dust puffed into the air when he was place on the bed inside. Both of them coughed, til the air finally cleared. "Sorry, I will clean in here as soon as I am done with my other duties." Toris got a first aid kit from under the bed. "This is the room Mr. Russia has given me to stay in. I will share it with you, til you are better." He sat the kit on the bed and went through it.

"How long have you been here, in this hell hole?" England asked, hiding his eyes with his arm.

"Not that long. Mr. Russia stole me away." Lithuania said, dabbing Arthur's wounds with alcohol. "Sorry, this will sting."

"Ah...I-I see." The Englishman winced. "You are a prisoner, like myself."

"Yes, but, your nation is still free of his hand." Toris sighed and continued to clean Arthur. "You still have a home to go to."

"You are afraid of the bastard, but, still, how could you just let yourself be ran over?" Arthur asked being wrapped with bandages. "I would rather die than be under his control."

"I fought as hard as I could, I lost. He was just too much for me to beat." Toris said quietly, he was very quick at dressing wounds. He had allot of practice on himself. "For the sake of my people, I must stay alive. At any cost. I will serve under him, until I can escape safely."

After England was tended to, he went to work on the welt on his face and the injury on his thigh from America.

"Did Alfred hurt you?" England asked watching.

"Just a scratch compared to what I get on a daily basis. You should see my back." Lithuania did not flinch a mussel, removing the bullet deep inside his flesh. "This used to make me sick to my stomach. I guess I have gotten used to it."

Arthur gagged slightly and swallowed, looking across the room.

"Right."

"I will bring you dinner soon and a clean nightgown." Toris had finished nursing himself and slipped the kit back under the bed.

"Thank you." Arthur shut his eyes. "I feel allot better."

"You are welcome." Lithuania smiled wearily. "Try to get a little sleep." He walked to the door, shutting the light off on his way out.

England slept.

A soft touch to the cheek awoke Arthur hours later. Two large fearful blue eyes peered down at him. Arthur opened his eyes wider. The young face appeared to have his mouth sewed shut and he was crying.

"BLOODY HELL!" He exclaimed backing up into the head board. The boy rubbed his eyes.

"I apologize it he startled you." A blonde with glasses was sitting in the far corner. A bandage over his right eye. "Mr. Russia has gone to an extreme for punishment, that is a normal occurrence. We dressed you while you slept. Lithuania was kind enough to bring you some stew. He went to find something for Latvia to eat. My name is Estonia."

Toris walked in holding a bowl with a straw propped out of it. He had on a yellow apron and his white undershirt's sleeves were rolled up exposing his bruised forearms.

"All I could find was applesauce." He sighed. "I hope the straw will fit between the stitches." Latvia looked up at him teary eyed as Lithuania pressed the straw passed his lips, he drank it sniffling. "Hush, I will speak with Mr. Russia and see if we can remove the stitches and lessen the punishment, okay?" Toris pat him on the head.

"That is horrid!" England said through his teeth. "That monster."

"Oh, Mr. England, I did not notice you were awake." Lithuania looked tired, he handed him the stew from the table beside the bed. "Here. Eat, you will need your strength."

Arthur took it and ate.

"Do all of you share this room?" He asked.

"We all have separate bedrooms." Estonia pressed up his glasses. "However, in this place it is nice to have someone to watch your back. If Mr. Russia is in the mood and catches you alone, it will not end pleasantly."

"Speaking of which, Mr. Russia said it was bedtime for you both." Toris said. "He thinks you are still asleep Mr. England."

"How about yourself?" Estonia asked standing, he was concerned. Latvia had finished his liquid meal and was looking up at him worried as well.

"Mr. Russia has ordered me to stay up a little longer." Lithuania lowered his eyes. "You two sleep well."

"Alright. Goodnight Toris, goodnight Mr. England." Estonia sighed. He and Latvia left.

"You take care of them, don't you?" England said, taking the last bite of stew from the bowl.

"Somewhat." Toris admitted. "Mostly just Latvia, he is always getting in trouble because of his mouth. Estonia can pretty much handle himself. He can smooth talk Mr. Russia well."

"What did Braginski order you to do?" Arthur asked.

"Just some chores." Toris said quickly. "I will let you sleep in my bed. There is a couch in the living room where I can rest." He left in a hurry to avoid anymore questions.

Lithuania walked down the hall and down the stairs to Russia's study. He had been told to return to him when he had put the others to bed. Toris was Ivan's favorite, toy. His knock was soft on the wooden door.

"Mr. Russia?" He said in a timid voice. "I did as told." The door opened and he was pulled inside. Papers were torn, crumbled, and pushed onto the floor along with a few empty bottles of vodka. Broken picture frames hung on the walls. Russia smiled drunkenly. "What happened in here?" Toris said under his breathe. He had not long ago cleaned his office.

"My dearest Latva. You have come to help me clean up, da?" He asked. His hair was a ratted mess.

"Yes sir." Lithuania said. He swallowed the lump in his throat. "H-how can I be of assistance?"

Russia pointed to a black maids dress hanging over his desk chair.

"Get dressed and get on your knees, now." He demanded in a deep rigid voice. Lithuania shivered and striped, re-robing before Ivan could notice the scars on his back. The frilly garb was tight to his body and very short. He held it down in the back to hid his butt as he dropped to the floor. "Good boy." Toris hair was snatched and his face was shoved into Ivan's crotch. He rubbed the others nose into him. "This needs cleaned first."

It smelled a little sour. Lithuania undid the Russian's pants, shutting his eyes and taking the large member into his mouth quickly. The sooner this was over, the better. All he had to do was pleasure the man, then he could sleep. He hoped.

"I will fill your tummy." Russia pressed him farther onto him. "Yummy yummy."

Toris's eyes teared, the shaft going deep down his throat. Ivan's sack reached the back of his tongue. He could not breath as his throat was being penetrated rapidly. His body squirmed, trying to push away, but Russia held him firmly, shoving himself deeper. He was losing consciousness, til finally Ivan ejaculated. Sperm shot into Toris' stomach and out his nose. Russia exited and Lithuania took a much need gasp for breath, coughing. His belly grumbled and twisted. He was going to throw up.

Arthur was awake still, planning out a way to escape. He prayed Alfred had made his way back home and was getting help. There was a soft brushing noise from the hall. England hobbled to the door and cracked the door open to see.

Toris was in the hall dressed as a maid wearing matching high heeled shoes. His hands were tied around his back and tape was placed over his lips. Shoved far up his rectum was a broom. The bristled end swept the floor as he sway slowly. Dried tears stained his face and his hair was messed with vomit.

"Toris?" England gasped, which startled the brunette. He lost balance and fell. The broom handle shoved farther inside of him. He hit the ground in pain, doubling over. Arthur hurried to his aid, untying him and removing the crude bloodied torturing device. He carefully took the tape off his mouth and drug him back into his room.


	6. Chapter 6

Toris shook curling into a ball. His lower intestine was hurting and he could feel the blood oozing out of himself from behind. He crawled back towards the door, England stopped him blocking his path.

"Where the bloody hell do you think you are going?" Arthur asked. "You cannot seriously be going back out there."

"I have to, it was my punishment." Said Toris hoarsely. "This is what I deserve, I am a disgrace to my country."

"Clear your head!" England smacked his face and Lithuania blinked. "How would the other two Baltics think of you hearing you say those things? Stay strong!"

"Sorry." He hung his head. "This is so embarrassing."

Arthur kneeled beside the man and undressed him, his body was covered in lashes. Some were fresh, others old. Most were concentrated to his back.

"My god." England held a hand over his mouth in astonishment.

"Please, do not look." Toris wrapped his arms around himself.

"This is, horrid." The Englishman ran his hand over a scar. "I am sorry."

"Do not be." Lithuania said softly. "I rather I wear these scars, than someone else. I am his punching bag, I suffer so others do not have to. It is my way of protecting the ones I care about. Do not tell anyone it is this bad, okay? I do not want them to worry."

"Alright." Arthur said sighing.

He dressed Toris with a shirt from the dresser, then helped him into the bed. Using a leftover rag, he wipe him clean. Lithuania shut his tired eyes.

"Thank you." He whispered, drifting into slumber. "You are very kind."

England watched the man sleep. A feeling of sadness and anger welled up inside of him. Russia did not have the right to do this. Sure Arthur had repressed several nations, but he had not been so harsh. At least, he did not think so. He thought back to Alfred's rebel. A dark time in his history where he had to fight his very own flesh and blood.

"A hospital ship? He will be taken care of, correct?" Arthur asked from his desk. On it was a spread of maps of the colonies and shore lines. "This is different from the Jersey?"

"Yes, but it is still a prison ship." Said the tall British Captain. His wig curled under his hat and slicked back into a ponytail. He was middle aged and a little on the plump spectrum. "They will take care of his injuries."

"Can I visit him?" Asked the blonde.

"We can arrange a visit, however not on the ship. It has patients with disease and infection on it."

"Fine." England sighed. "I will schedule for us to meet on shore. Where is he now?"

The man cleared his throat.

"Currently he is being checked in. They will do a thorough examination and get him settled." He said. "Once that is done with, I will inform the ship captain about your wish to see him."

"Thank you Captain." Arthur nodded. "You are dismissed."

"Yes sir." The man bowed and walked off. A smile was stretched across his face.

"A prisoner on one of your filthy torture ships? I RATHER DIE!" Alfred thrashed against his escorts, his hands bound. "Damn red coats!" His chest injury reopened and he winced. He calmed himself.

"See that, Yankee scum?" One of the guards laughed. "You done tore yourself open again, idiot."

"Shut it and pay attention. He may be injured, but he is slyer than he appears." The older escort scolded.

"Yeah, boy." America smirked. "Better listen, I might just end up stabbing you in the back while you're distracted."

"You are lucky you are going to the Hunter and not the Jersey. I would have flogged you near to an inch of your life." The man snickered, irritated. "It does not matter though, disease or starvation will get you in the end. The nurses here will not even wait for you to take your last breathe. They will take your belongings and through you off the ship to be buried alive. Not even your dear brother can stop fate. He even confirmed your stay on this ship himself."

"What brother? I have no brother." Alfred glared.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((It gets weird. . .))

The colonist prisoner was taken across a wooden deck and up a plank onto the ship. He looked up at the stormy clouds before being pushed forwards through a large door. It was dimly lit. A small desk was between two guarded doors with a woman dressed in white sitting at it. They approached her, and she flashed a cold look up at Alfred.

"Name." She said in a smokers voice.

"Alfred Frederick Jones." The older soldier said quickly, before Alfred could speak. "He needs to be monitored closely."

"Right." The woman yawned and wrote his name in the log. "Prisoners condition?"

"Chest injury, but he is one of 'them'. He should heal quickly.

"Them?" The shorter man asked. "Who is them?"

"He and his brother are not human." The soldier explained to his companion. "They will live until they are killed. I do not believe they can even be killed by humans at all."

Alfred smiled over at the young astonished man and stuck out his tongue.

"So, he could actually live through this war?"

"Yes, he could. It depends on how things pan out." Said the eldest. "This man was once a soldier under our queen as we are. I admired him as a child. His physical appearance has barely changed at all. The hat I wear, he gave me. He is the reason I became a soldier."

The prisoner blushed and nodded towards the redcoat. He remembered that time, it felt so long ago. It was hard to believe this man who appeared to be in his thirties had stood before him as a child.

"That hat suits you far better than it ever did me." Alfred said softly.

"I do not understand why you and your people started this war, but I will not hold back. I believe I am on the side that is right." The man said. "I hope someday, when this is all over we can sit and have a drink of rum together. Good luck."

"You too pal." The colonist smiled a toothy grin. "What's your name?"

"Walter P. Morris, sir."

"I will remember that."

Alfred was taken through one of the doors by another man and helped down a few flights of stairs to a dimlit room. Sickly people sat around in groups chatting, while a few laid near the walls crying out in pain. He cringed, while the door was locked behind him. The place was crowded. Alfred cupped a hand over his nose and mouth, then found a spot by the small barred window. His stomach grumbled, but by the looks of the other men, food was sparse.

"This is a hospital ship?" Arthur asked in disbelief, observing the rusty ship floating just off the dock. "The Hunter?"

"Yes sir." The man said leading him onto the ship. England held his hanky over his mouth and nose walking into a cabin. It was dark inside, even though the sun was shining. He walked up to the hateful women sitting at the desk.

"I am here to see Alfred Fredrick Jones." He told her.

She checked the list in front of her, many of the names were crossed out. A way to show they were no longer among the living. Alfred's was still there, Arthur sighed relieved.

"Floor 5." The woman coughed.

England went through one of the doors and spiraled down the steps using a small lantern for light. He came face to face with a door with a large 5 etched into the wood. Beyond the door was darkness. Figures were throughout the room in small huddles. Their conversations ceased when they noticed his entry.

"I am looking for Alfred F. Jones." Arthur announced.

A few of the men whispered, it was followed with snickering. A man with a patch over his eye pointed to the corner by a small dust covered window. The rest went back to their chatter. Arthur went leading with his light, it shined over the man huddled against the wall. He was pale, dirty and shivering with fever. His cheeks were sunken from starvation. Arthur could only confirm his identity by his striking blue eyes.

"Alfred?" The Englishman gasped. "What have they done to you?"

The sickly man grinned meekly.

"'They?'" Alfred chuckled. "It was you."

With all his remaining strength, the yankee kicked Arthur's legs. The impact sent him to his knees and Alfred took hold of the glowing lantern. He threw it into a wall as he ran for the exit. It broke, the flames spreading up the wall as the soldier made his escape.

"Mr. England?" Called the sweet mellow voice of the timid Lithuanian man. It was around six in the morning. Arthur opened his eyes, he must have fallen asleep shortly after helping the other nation. "Good morning. I apologize for waking you." He smiled kindly down at him, fixing the pillows on the bed. One of his teeth was chipped and his hair was pulled away from his face. His bangs hung, partly covering the large bruise on his face.

Arthur sat up quick.

"I am sorry. I took your bed from you." He said swinging his feet over the side.

"No, do not worry. You are a guest." Toris spoke in a bittersweet tone. "I made you some breakfast. Also, I mended your clothing and washed them for you. Most of the stains came out."

"Thank you." England took the plate of eggs and ate quietly while Toris struggled to tie his apron around himself. Arthur paused from eating and walked behind the man, tying it for him. Lithuania's stomach growled.

"Excuse me." He blushed embarrassed.

"Have you not eaten? You made me plenty, why don't you have some?"

"No. I-I, um, am on a special diet." Toris said, bending to tie his shoes. "Trying to lose weight, I have gained some while living here. Too much cabbage and beet stew."

Arthur knew the man was lying. The man was far too thin, he was sure his refusal had something to do with the Russian. He wondered if what he was forced to eat had made him vomit in the night. How cruel.

"Toris, my brother is Alfred. Although you are a better liar than he is, you cannot fool me." England crossed his arms. "Eat. You are starving."

"I cannot." Toris frowned. "I am too embarrassed to say why."

"LATVA!" A booming voice echoed from outside the door, a knock followed and it was opened. Russia smiled, the side of his face still injured from the object that was thrown at him. In his hand was a tall glass filled with a milky white substance. He placed it into Lithuania's hands. "I worked hard to get this for you, drink every drop." Ivan cooed.

"Yes sir." Toris responded quickly, blushing as he held the cup to his lips. His hand shook as the contents entered his mouth. It ran slowly over his tongue. Lithuania closed his eyes tight, the taste was disgusting and there was so much to down.

"I hope you are feeling better Arthur." Russia sing sung as he left, back out the room. "You can clean the mess you made in my study when you finish Toris, so please make more room in that tummy of yours." He added, humming.

"What the bloody hell is that?" England asked watching the other man drink the snot looking liquid, it was traveling faster than before. A look of realization crossed his face. "Oh my god, it is not. . ." A hand cupped over his mouth.

Toris took a break, gagging and coughing on what he just consumed. There was still plenty left in his glass. He was shaking, holding his stomach with his other hand.

"I-I know it is gross, please do not watch me." Lithuania said hoarsely.

"Do not drink anymore, he will not know if you finished it or not!" England said enraged, he took the glass from the man. It was warm. "Disgusting."

Toris, went to his knees spitting back up the fowl drink. He covered his face in shame.

"I cannot do this." He said, his nose running. "This is the worst torture I have ever endured. I have always had a weak stomach, but still, this is just too much. Forced to consume bodily fluid for some sick twisted amusement."

England threw the glass against the wall and it broke into pieces. He pulled Toris' hands away and stared him down.

"Leave with me, when Alfred returns with the others." Arthur said, not taking no for an answer. "You can live with me, til you can stand on your own two feet again."

"Leave?" Toris gazed back into the other's leafy green eyes. "You mean, run away?"

"Yes."

Lithuania shook his head.

"There is no escaping this place." He said. "I have tried. I wear the scars to prove it. Someday I will be free, but right now I am not strong enough. He will kill me. I have more than just my own life to be concerned about. I am sorry Mr. England, but, if you try to leave I will have to stop you."

"You are such a strange person." England sighed. "After all these years you still speak like a knight of old. Takes me back. In a way I do understand, I was a knight myself long ago." He pulled the brunette to his feet and helped him sit on the bed. Arthur shoveled a large bite of scrambled eggs into the Lithuanian's mouth.

"Mmm!" Toris exclaimed and swallowed. He blushed. "I know you are trying to-Mmm!" Another spoonful silenced his protest. He stayed quiet letting England feed him, til the plate was emptied. "Thank you for sharing. I better hurry and clean Mr. Russia's study now before he decides to have the others do it."

Arthur crossed his arms and laid back onto the bed.

"I do not get you." He said.

"There is allot I do not understand about you as well." Lithuania stood and headed out the room. "I have many things to do today so it may be awhile before I come back here. Try to stay out of Mr. Russia's path." He said leaving.

Toris rubbed his shoulder. It ached more than the rest of him. His body was sure to give out eventually from the abuse. He walked down to Russia's office, Ivan had been waiting for him. A big smile was stretched across his face. The large spot of vomit remained where it had been the night before.

"Latva, ready for seconds?" Ivan towered over the smaller nation.

"Sir, I am sorry, but I cannot." Toris lowered his head.

"Excuse me? I am sorry, but I think I heard you defy my orders." Russia yanked the brunettes head up.

"I did, sir." Lithuania shook looking into the Russian's cruel mauve eyes. "Please, do not kill me."

"Kill you?" Ivan laughed and shoved Toris into his desk chair.

"Don't you dare harm him!" England yelled running into the room. He held his side in pain. His body was still in bad shape.

"Arthur!" Russia exclaimed grabbing the blonde by the arm. He dug his thumbs into the man's stitches tearing them apart. "I am glad you have come to join us. I was just on my way to come get you."

"Bastard." Arthur hissed. He was forced to the ground before Toris. Ivan walked behind his desk, stepping on England's hand as he went through a drawer. "Uh-mhm! Get off me!"

Ivan retrieved a set of keys and held them up for show.

"Latva, help me escort Arthur to the basement."

"Yes sir."

Russia lead them through the house. Lithuania's sword was to England's backside as they made their way down the damp stone steps. Ivan hummed unlocking the thick barred door at the bottom, then held it open for his comrades.

"After you." He giggled.

England and Lithuania stepped inside the dark concrete room. The heavy door was locked behind them and Russia flipped on the dim light. It exposed the swaying chains and torture devices that were hiding in the darkness. Toris was taken by the throat and he dropped his sword. Ivan shoved Arthur towards a wooden table. The surface was covered in dark stains.

"What are you planning?" Arthur glared. "Twisted git."

"I have not decided yet." Ivan cooed, lifting Toris up and laying him down on the splintering wood. He gasped for breath. The Russian turned her attention to Arthur and pulled him closer by his wrist. He forcefully undressed the protesting Englishman.

"Bloody hell! Stop!"

"Latva, remove your clothing."

Quietly the man did as he was told.

Screams and laughter flooded through the household. Estonia looked up from his paperwork over to Latvia who was busy at work sweeping the living area. Both of them knew something horrible was happening to their fellow Baltic, however they could do nothing to help him. They could not even manage to help themselves.

An eery silence and feeling of gloom emitted from below the Russian's home. Ivan wiped his blooded hands off on Toris's apron. His workmanship hung from chains in the center of the room.

Toris was extended from the ceiling by his ankles and wrists. Below him mirrored England bound to the dungeon floor. The two of them had been sutured together into a sixty-nine position. Their mouths were stitched over each other's members and sewn into place past the scrotum. A tube was fed into their stomachs swaying from between the two men. The chains were pulled taught, both unable to move anything but their fingers and toes.

"Beautiful." Ivan gushed circling them. They hung waist high. He traced Toris' spine all the way to his bottom. "Which side should I play with first?"

Toris grunted and shut his eyes tightly.

"Guess I will just have to play with both of you." Russia sing-sung. He hurried across the room. Arthur's eyes followed him. "Here we are." He announced when he returned to their side. In both hands he had two large spiked morning stars. "Who first?"

Eyes widened, Arthur moaned.

"Yay! Sounds like we have a winner." Ivan walked around them and shoved one of the tarnished balls into Arthur's rectum. It scrapped and torn him open as it was pushed inside him.

England's cries were muffled, he trembled in pain.

"Feel good, da?" Russia said pulling back out his hands. He placed the other star into Toris, the connected chains hung out of them dripping with blood. Ivan wrapped them around both fists a few times, then pulled. "They are pretty stuck in you." He stated letting go. "Guess I will have to press them up farther to make room for myself."

The Russian always had a pipe close by. He picked one from a pile against the wall, then shoved his selection deep inside Toris. The morning star moved deeper, til it slipped into his intestines. The same was done to Arthur leaving both of the captives rectums empty, except for the massive amount of blood gushing out and the jiggling metal chains.

England bit down onto Lithuania's member, Toris' body tensed.

"What is wrong Latva?" Russia pushed Toris' hair away from his face and bent down to read his expression. His eyes were full of terror and pain. "Are you hungry?" He took hold of the tube hanging from the man's stomach and placed it to his lips. "Let me fill you up." Ivan smiled and blew air into him.

Toris felt himself bloat. His stomach rumbled and expanded. He moaned loudly for him to stop, but Ivan continued to fill him. Russia stopped when no more air could be added and tied the tube closed.

"That should be enough for you." Ivan yawned and took a seat on the country's back. The weight of the much larger nation and Arthur was too much for him. His shoulders dislocated from the strain. "Ow, Toris, that looks like it hurts." Russia shifted onto his knees. The space between Toris' shoulder and arm increased.

Lithuania whimpered in agony, his legs popping from there sockets. England had dropped closer to the ground. The chains that bound him had slack. He struggled against them trying to get his hands free.

"WHAT THE HELL!"

All attention went to Alfred who had found his way down to the basement. He was covered in dirt.

"Alfred." Ivan stood. "We were not expecting company." He smiled and yanked out the morning star from inside Arthur. The Englishman passed out.

"SICK BASTARD!" Alfred yelled. "It is one thing to hurt my brother and me, then hurt my brother again and the brunette one that works for you cause you make him against his will cause he is weak, and well, I thought he was a chick for the past 100 years and I don't remember his name for the life of me, which I think is Trent, or something like that...BUT, I. . . dammit. . .PREPARE TO BE PUNCHED IN THE FACE!"


	8. Chapter 8

"Maybe you should not speak. You appear smarter when you do not." France placed a hand on America's shoulder. "Now then, release my brother and the sexy little one, will you?" He stepped in front and held a gun pointed to Ivan's face.

"Welcome." The Russian smiled at them.

"What is with this kinky torture?" Francis glared. "You should treat your lovers with more care."

Ivan pet Toris on the head.

"Are you saying I do not treat my underlings properly." His gaze narrowed. "That is an insult."

"Can I kick his ass yet?" Growled Alfred. "He is just asking for it."

Quickly Ivan threw the morning star at France, it hit his hand and sent the gun across the basement. Francis winced and held his wrist tight.

"Dammit!" America cursed running after it.

Russia swung a fist at France, he barely dodged it. Ivan was light on his feet, but Francis was faster.

"Graceful, for a big brute!" The Frenchman twirled about Russia. "Perhaps if we were on ice, you could keep up with my pace!"

Ivan seized France by his neck.

"What was it you were saying?"

Alfred fired a bullet into Ivan's shoulder, he dropped Francis to the ground and hunched over in pain. It had gone straight through him.

"Stay still, or I will aim to kill!" He warned. "France, unhook them and take them to safety. We will get them un-stitched when we are out of here."

Francis hurried to the captured victims and worked off the chains.

Ivan turned towards Alfred laughing.

"Take them." He cooed. "You may take them, but, take into consideration that I own Latva. He works for me and will return on his own to me. Your rescue is a waste."

France swung the two men over his shoulder and ran up the basement stairs.

"Come Alfred!" He called.

Alfred followed him out casting a dirty look over his shoulder at the dark mauve eyes of the Russian madman.

"Have a good day, Alfred."

"You almost done?" America asked hovering over Japan. "Looks nasty." He scrunched his nose.

Japan tensed and carefully removed another crudely done stitch from Lithuania's pelvis. Both men were unconscious and the bleeding from their rectums had stopped.

"I am almost done. Can you bring me a fresh bucket of water?"

"Sure thing doc!" Alfred snatched up the bloody water and went to change it out.

France sighed and handed Japan the tweezers.

"He is always eager, yes?" He said, wiping off the shears Kiku gave him. "The beautiful bliss of being young."

Japan nodded and pulled out the remaining thread, then gently moved England's head off of Lithuania.

"Here is the water!" America announced, placing it next to Japan. Kiku dabbed Arthur's face with a clean sponge. "You freed them."

Japan removed his face mask and smiled.

"I think they are going to be alright now. Just let them rest." He said taking off his bloodied gloves and stood. "Call me if something goes wrong."

Alfred hugged Japan tight and ruffled his hair.

"Thanks dude!"

The Japanese man pushed away blushing.

"Eh, n-no, it was my pleasure." He bowed and took his leave. Francis showed him out.

America looked at the two naked men spread out on the bed and frowned. They had been through allot and although he wanted to wake them up, he held back his urge. It was torturous.

"Alfred, would you like me to make dinner?" France asked returning to clean up the bloody mess. "I was thinking a delicious soup."

"Sure, but, can we have hamburgers instead?"

"Hamburgers?" Francis sneered. "I guess I could make you one. Rather me make it, than you trying to make it and burning down my house. I will return, please let them sleep." He sighed walking off.

Alfred stayed behind and stared down at Toris's face. It was bruised. He wondered if the man really would go back to Russia. Surely he would not, he could not be that dumb. His brow wavered and his eyes opened slightly.

"Hey dumbass." America greeted. He pouted his lip and poked him in the forehead. "I see you aint dead."

"Ow." Lithuania groaned.

"Serves you right."

"Mr. America. Thank you."

Alfred blushed and pulled a sheet over Toris's injured privates.

"Yeah, yeah, France helped too."

"Is Mr. England okay?"

"He is right beside you. Tell you the truth, you are in worse shape."

"Thank goodness." Sighed Toris, looking over at England who was sleeping peacefully. "I am glad I got the worse of it."

"You are weird." Pouted America. "He said you'd come back."

"Yes. I have to." Lithuania said sadly. "He has my nation."

"I don't get you but, when you get some balls and escape that fatass...you can, you know...stay at my place." Alfred said eyes downcast. "It is the least I could do for you helping out Arthur."

Toris face light up and he smiled kindly.

"I may have to take you up on your offer. . . someday."

Arthur's hand flew up in the air and smacked Alfred in the face.

"OW! What was that for?" America asked wincing.

England had shifted his body. His arms were wrapped around Lithuania loosely. He snorted and murmured something about scones. Toris laughed lightly, not knowing the last time he had felt so at ease.


End file.
